


Behind These Cold Eyes

by Hexiva



Series: David/Elliot [1]
Category: Legion (TV), Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Clockworks Psychiatric Hospital, Crossover Pairings, David reads minds but he doesn't know it, Elliot Is Syd, Love Confessions, M/M, pink floyd - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:22:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25293886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexiva/pseuds/Hexiva
Summary: There's a new patient at Clockworks Psychiatric Hospital. His name is Elliot Alderson, and David Haller is absolutely smitten.
Relationships: Elliot Alderson/David Haller
Series: David/Elliot [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832383
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	Behind These Cold Eyes

David finds Elliot in the common room, writing in his journal. Possessed of an impish excitement, for a moment, David almost taps Elliot on the shoulder to startle him. But then he remembers: No touching. 

Instead, he knocks on the table next to Elliot to get his attention. Elliot looks up, his cold grey eyes fixing on David.

Elliot’s been in Clockworks for about two weeks, and David thinks he’s in love. The moment Elliot walked in, David forgot about the world around him, forgot about Lenny talking to him, forgot about his memories of Philly. He couldn’t say what it was about Elliot that had drawn his attention. The other man was about David’s age, a little shorter, darker skinned, with big, bulging, pale eyes and dark shadows under them. Those big eyes darted around the room, evaluating everyone, and they landed on David for just a second. And in that second, David saw something he recognized, looking back at him. Something deep inside him said,  _ He’s like me.  _

Since then, David has been desperate to get Elliot’s attention. There had been a moment - in group therapy - 

David had been talking about his hallucinations. About the Devil with Yellow Eyes. About his medication. And Elliot had said  _ Hmm,  _ just a little noise, and Dr. Kissinger’s eyes swung to him. 

“You have something to add?” Dr. Kissinger asked Elliot, raising an eyebrow. Kissinger never seems to like Elliot. Then again, David’s starting to get the idea that Elliot might have a problem with authority.

“Yeah, I have something to add,” Elliot said, leaning in. “Do you know why we’re all here? Why we’re  _ really  _ here? It’s not because we’re sick. I mean, we are. It’s because our sickness is an impediment to the capitalist system. Because we can’t  _ produce,  _ can’t  _ consume  _ correctly if we’re sick. That’s why we’re here. The system doesn’t give a damn if you’re sick, if you’re hurt, if you’re in pain, as long as you can get up in the morning and order your Starbucks coffee and go in to work like a good little drone. We’re here because we couldn’t. Because we broke the rules. Because we got  _ caught  _ being crazy. Mental illness is a social construct, just like everything else. It all depends on who it hurts. If it hurts the system, they throw you in here. If it hurts you - well, then, fuck you. You’re on your own. That’s the system we live in. The system I tried to take down. And now look at me. Sitting here, blank-eyed, staring at the walls of a mental institution, because I can’t trust myself to be out in the world. Because I can’t trust  _ him  _ to be out in the world.”

David blinked, transfixed by Elliot’s rant. And then Kissinger leaned over and snapped his fingers at Elliot. “Focus, Elliot. Did you have something to add?”

“No,” Elliot said, and David realized that this entire rant had been all in his head. A delusion. Elliot had been sitting there in blank silence, staring at them. 

Kissinger looked through his binder. “I’ve noticed that you don’t like to share with the group, Elliot. You keep to yourself. Don’t have many friends here. You know, companionship is an important part of the recovery process.”

“I’m not here to make friends,” Elliot said. “I’m here to get my head fixed.”

_ That’s the worst part of this place,  _ Elliot’s voice said in David’s head, as David watched him, fascinated.  _ I have to  _ **_interact_ ** _ with all of these people on a daily basis. There’s no escaping from having people around  _ **_all_ ** _ the time, no matter where I turn. Packed in like sardines in a can. It’s fucking claustrophobic. I have to keep my distance. I can’t afford to trust anyone.  _

And in that moment, David had felt a question bubbling up in him, had wanted to turn to Elliot and ask him  _ Will you be my boyfriend?  _ But his courage had failed him. He doesn’t even know if Elliot’s gay. He doesn’t even know if  _ he’s  _ gay, for that matter. All he knows is that he can’t stop thinking about Elliot. Elliot’s voice in his head, Elliot’s beautiful, frightened eyes, Elliot always on the edges of everything, watching.

And now here he is, trying again. “Elliot,” he says. “Hey, can I - I want to show you something. Are you busy?” He blinks down at Elliot, hopefully. 

_ David seems nice enough,  _ Elliot’s voice says, in David’s head.  _ Maybe a little naive, a little desperate to be liked. Younger than his years. But friendly. But I don’t have time to be friendly. I’m here to get my shit together and that’s it. I am not falling into any traps of trusting people, and I don’t need any friends.  _

_ But if I say that, I’m going to feel like I kicked a puppy. Whatever David’s in here for - I think he needs someone. Can I be that someone? I shouldn’t.  _ **_He_ ** _ would tell me it’s not safe, and he’s right. But I came here to get rid of  _ **_him,_ ** _ not to listen to  _ **_him._ ** _ And I could use an ally. _

“It won’t take long,” David says, coaxing.

Elliot looks down at his journal, and then back up at David. David can practically hear him making a decision. “Sure,” Elliot says, and shuts the journal. 

“Come on,” David says, and he leads him upstairs. David lays a finger on his lips and whispers  _ sssh,  _ as they sneak into the part of Clockworks where the doctors’ offices are. They’re not, strictly speaking, supposed to be here - but David knows Elliot won’t mind.

David stops at one of the offices, one without a nameplate on the door, and jiggles the door knob. It’s locked, but he knows if he jiggles it just right, it’ll open up. He shuts his eyes and focuses. It’s almost a trick in his mind, picturing the lock, the tumblers, and imagining them coming unlocked in his mind, and then he twists the doorknob just so, and it comes open in his hand. He grins at Elliot, and swings the door open.

Inside is a therapist’s office, disused and spider-webbed. It’s visibly being used as a janitor’s closet, with cleaning products and brooms filling up most of the space. But there’s a couch still there, pushed to face out the big window, looking out on the outside world. 

“It’s my private spot,” David says, proudly. “I come here to think, sometimes.”

“Nice,” Elliot says. David can’t tell if he’s impressed.

“Sit down,” David says, patting the couch. Elliot looks at him, skeptical. “I won’t touch you, promise,” David says.

Elliot’s eyes flick from David to the couch, and then, carefully, he sits down.

“Close your eyes,” David says, and once again Elliot hesitates, and then complies.

David leans down, and reaches under the couch to pull out something he’s hidden there. A Walkman, with big headphones and one tape. He flicks it on, starts it playing, and then slides it over Elliot’s ears, careful not to let his hands brush Elliot’s skin. 

Elliot’s eyes flick open. Even though the headphones aren’t on David’s ears, he knows this album so well that he imagines he can hear it through Elliot’s ears. __

_ So ya thought ya might like to go to the show,  _ Roger Waters sings, _ to feel the warm thrill of confusion . . . _

“Pink Floyd,” Elliot says. His tone is as flat as always, but David can tell he likes it.

“My sister smuggled it in for me,” David says, moving to sit on the couch next to Elliot, a respectful foot away from him. “She doesn’t like to break the rules, but I . . . I told her it would be good for my recovery. She wants me to get better.”

Elliot looks over to David. Those big, pale eyes study him, and David has the unnerving feeling that Elliot can see David’s every secret. “Why do you . . .” Elliot says, and then hesitates. “Why do you listen to  _ this,  _ here?” His eyes flick to the Walkman. “Pink Floyd. Isn’t it about - ?”

“Crazy people?” David suggests, too quickly, and then has to look away, embarrassed. “Yeah,” he says, quietly. “I dunno. I like it.” He’s quiet for a moment, trying to collect his words. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself. Elliot is so smart, and David knows he isn’t. “I used to watch the movie, The Wall, over and over again. Like, when it would - switch to animation, you know, like a cartoon, it was like the - like the hallucinations. Like the hallucinations I have. Except they weren’t so scary when they were on screen. And I - I felt like he understood me, you know? The guy from Pink Floyd. Like I - wasn’t the only one going through it.”

Elliot watches him. “Yeah. I get that.” His eyes flick to the window, staring down at the world below. He’s still listening to the music. __

“It must be nice to have music,” Elliot says. “It makes the - ” He gestured to his head. “It makes it quieter.”

“It does,” David agrees. Music has always been his talisman, his totem to ward off the Devil with Yellow Eyes. “When I listen to it, sometimes I - I imagine I’m out there.” He points out the window. “Like I’m . . . free again.”

Elliot looks at him silently for a moment. “Are they still sedating you?” he asks, suddenly.

About a week ago, Elliot happened on him leaning outside of his room as the orderlies cleaned it up. “What happened?” Elliot asked.

David had explained, as best he could, that he’d had a dream, that he must have thrashed around or sleep-walked or something, and trashed the room, and the orderlies had sedated him when he woke up. Elliot’s big grey eyes had slid down to fix on David’s arm, where there was a hand-shaped bruise. 

“No,” David says, in the present. “That’s - that’s a funny thing, actually. Last time something happened, they went to - uh - get the needle, and then the doctor stopped them. He said I was allergic to it. I don’t  _ remember  _ being allergic to it . . .”

Elliot smiles, a secret, satisfied little smile, and his voice in David’s head says,  _ It worked. That’s the thing about people . . . you don’t always need a terminal to hack them. _

David blinks at him. “Did you . . . do something?” he asks, forgetting for a moment that the voices in his head are just a delusion.

Elliot looks startled, and his eyes slide away from David’s, and in that moment David knows he’s right, that Elliot  _ did  _ do something.

“It wasn’t right,” Elliot says, looking out the window. “They were treating you like a problem to be solved, instead of a patient. So I . . . fixed it.”

“How?” David says, shocked.

“I just wrote it down on your chart. It was that simple. Once something gets written down, it gets transferred throughout the system, regardless of whether it’s true . . . A security flaw.”

David stares at Elliot. “You did that for me?” he asks.

Elliot avoids his gaze. “It wasn’t right,” he says, noncommittally.

The sunlight floods the dusty little room, and the distorted sounds of Pink Floyd’s guitar fill their ears. David feels warm inside.

_ If you want to find out what's behind these cold eyes,  _ Roger Waters sings,  _ you'll just have to claw your way through this disguise . . . _

David leans in, and kisses Elliot. 

It’s just a peck on the lips, and for a moment, David thinks Elliot is into it, leaning towards him, one hand coming up to hover over David’s shoulder - 

And then Elliot pulls back, abruptly. 

“Sorry,” David says, stumbling over his words. “S-sorry, I - I forgot.” He holds his hands up. “No touching.”

“No,” Elliot says. He looks away. “It’s not that.” 

“No, I - I get it. You’re not - you’re not gay, I mean bi, I mean, whatever I am,” David says, and oh, he’s making a fool of himself again, isn’t he? The voices in his head laugh at him. “I - I get it, it’s okay, I won’t - we can just be friends.”

“It’s not that either.” Elliot looks back at him. “Look, I - why are you in here?” 

David’s cheeks burn. “Paranoid schizophrenia,” he admits.

“I’m in here because I stalked my therapist,” Elliot says, flatly. “And hacked her computer, and - some other things, too.” He looks back out the window. “I didn’t fight the charges. I wanted to be sent here. I needed time to sort my shit out. To make sure I’m in control again.” 

David laughs. He can’t help it. Elliot looks back at him, offended, and David holds his hands up. “I’m sorry, it’s just - I did that too. I mean, I didn’t - I didn’t stalk him, or hack anything, but I - I broke into my therapist’s house.”

Elliot chuckles, just a little. “I guess we’ve got that in common, then.” He has a little smile on his face now, and it makes him look softer, kinder. David likes it. But then the smile drops. “I’m not ready to be in a relationship, David. My last girlfriend - she - it - it ended badly. You should find someone who’s not as big of a mess as me.”

_ But I don’t want someone who’s not as big of a mess,  _ David thinks,  _ I want you.  _ But he bites the words back, feeling his heart break. “It’s okay,” he says. “I get it. I - ” He leans in, putting a hand on the couch next to where Elliot’s sitting. “Will you tell me, if you ever - if you feel like you’re ready, again?”

Elliot looks back at him, grey eyes staring into blue. And then he smiles slightly. “Okay. I’ll do that.”

“Thank you,” David says, sitting back. He feels like he might be about to start crying.

Elliot seems to sense this. He takes off the headphones and hands it back to David. “Here,” he says. “You can have your Walkman back.”

“No, I - ” David says. “You can keep it. I mean, you can keep listening.” He gets up from the couch. “I’ve - I’ve gotta go. Just - shove it back under the couch when you’re done.” He turns and hurries to the door, and then stops when he hears Elliot’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” Elliot says.

“You - you don’t have anything to apologize for,” David says, and then he’s out the door, and gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here is the most niche thing I have ever written. If you actually read this, please leave a comment! I know there's about 5 people in the Legion fandom, so I could use the encouragement.


End file.
